The Phantom Zone
by Lonestarr
Summary: What becomes of the forgotten? Where do they end up?


Disclaimer: I don't own "Kim Possible", but if I did, stories like this would have no need to exist.

"Where the hell am I?"

The teenaged girl, whose features and voice immediately identified her as someone of Hispanic descent, glanced around the surroundings. It looked like a blank void shrouded in fog. Her statement was more fearful than upset.

Her voice echoed throughout the…she was loath to refer to it as an area. After all, an area as she knew it had its boundaries. This place looked like it went on forever.

"Am I dead?"

"_It depends on what you mean by dead."_

"Who is that?" The young woman walked toward the low feminine voice. Within moments, her walk became a run. The fog cleared ever so gradually. The girl could make out shadowy figures in the distance. The run turned into a mad dash. If there were people here, perhaps they could tell her what's happening…and she had a yen to find out just that.

The girl cleared away the fog and could clearly make out two people sitting on a couch. One was a stocky, middle-aged man, while the other was a woman. She looked to be the same age as her couch mate, and her willowy figure was quite noticeable. Interestingly, they both had blonde hair and wore glasses. They looked distressed as they stared at the television before them.

The girl tapped the man's shoulder. "Excuse me."

The man nearly did a double-take as he glanced up at her. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Um…where am I?"

"Why this is Limbo, dear." The woman tried to invest some optimism into her grim statement, but to little avail. She and the man went back to staring at the television.

The girl covered her mouth. "Oh my god. I _am_ dead."

"_No, but you may as well be." _There was the voice again. She took off after it. Her legs were growing tired with all the running around.

She collapsed to her knees, her breathing labored and sweat running down her face.

She shot her head toward the sky. "Where the hell am I?!", she shouted to the heavens. Who knew if Heaven even existed here…or was this the other place?

"Nothingness, young lady. Where people like us are doomed to reside." The girl stared at the woman, whose dark blue jumpsuit, short-cropped brown hair and eye patch marked her as someone of considerable interest. The woman's voice was the one the girl heard as she arrived.

"'Doomed to reside'? What do you mean? Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Are you some alternate form of St. Peter? I never expected him to look like this."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Near as I can tell, you are not dead. None of us were in any such circumstances when we arrived here. One day, POP! We're no longer on our regular plane of existence."

"Just like the Rapture."

"I suppose one could put it like that." The woman extended a hand to the girl. "Dr. Director, head…_former_ head of Global Justice."

The girl returned the gesture. "Zita. Flores."

"What a lovely name. Let's talk." The two of them walk off.

XxXxXxXxX

"…and I see you've met Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable."

"Wait. Stoppable? As in _Ron_ Stoppable?"

"I would imagine that to be so."

"These are his parents. I never met his parents."

"Very few have. In fact…" Dr. Director looked around cautiously and whispered into Zita's ear. "…_they_ like to pretend that the Stoppables don't exist."

"Who is '_they_'?"

The woman glanced down, then looked back to the girl. "We'll talk later." She hurried off.

Zita shook her head and continued to wander.

XxXxXxXxX

"Is there any food in this place? I'm starving."

Instead of a buffet table with all of her favorite foods popping up (which, at this point, wouldn't have been so ridiculous), Zita heard sobbing from far off. She darted toward a shadow. The sobbing was coming from a girl who looked no older than Zita. She had sky blue eyes and hair that looked like it was spun from gold.

Zita placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

The girl turned around, tears streaming from her eyes. "They never cared about me. They never cared about my feelings…the feelings that they gave me."

"What do you mean?"

"I loved him, but they didn't care. They never wanted me to have him."

The brunette rubbed the blonde's back with one hand. "Don't worry. There's other guys out there."

"But I didn't want other guys! I wanted…" She launched into another bout of crying.

"Calm down. Please, calm down. What's your name?"

"Tara, but I may as well have been named 'water fountain' for all I mattered to people."

Zita looked into the blonde's eyes. "I'm Zita and you shouldn't talk like that. Everyone matters to someone. Now, who was this guy? Maybe I've heard of him."

"Ron."

"Okay. That's weird. I used to know a guy named Ron. He was kind of goofy, but he was a good guy."

"Well…" Tara dried her eyes. "…the Ron I knew was creative and brave."

Zita shook her head. There was no way this was the same guy. "Don't worry." She picked Tara up. "You are a beautiful girl. I just know there's a guy out there for you."

"You think so?"

"I know so." The truth was that Zita didn't know so. There weren't any guys here for the blonde, and she had no clue if or when any would materialize.

XxXxXxXxX

"Doc, what's the deal with this place? Why aren't there more people around?"

"Miss Flores, the mechanics of this place are a little complicated."

"It's not like I have anything else to do. Uncomplicate them."

The woman took a breath. "This place…it's mainly for…secondary characters that were never properly fleshed out."

"What do you mean, 'secondary characters'?"

Dr. Director thought a moment. How best to explain this? "Imagine that you have a bunch of things lying around the house: rubber bands, a loose playing card, old receipts. Where do you put them in case you might need them later?"

"A junk drawer. Where else?"

"And every so often, someone takes out a rubber band to use."

"Yeah…?"

The woman extended her arms. "Zita, welcome to the universe's junk drawer."

The girl sat with her mouth hanging open. "But why me?"

"I surmise that you were only engaged with Kim and Ron once or twice."

"How do you know them?"

"I required their assistance on a pair of assignments. Not long after the second, I ended up here. This place had a much heavier population when I first arrived. Unfortunately, a number of those people were a little too…verbal about their dissatisfaction with being discarded. They were promptly disposed of."

"Hey. You shouldn't deliver bad news like that."

The woman put her hands on her hips. "Well, Miss Charlotte Bronte, how am I supposed to deliver it?"

"Well…" Zita straightened up. "…you say that the person refused to accept the harsh reality with which they've been presented. Then, the little kid glares at you and you end up in the cornfield."

"Hmmm."

"Getting back to Global Justice. What did you guys do?"

"We traveled around the world, stopping those who threatened the world's safety. I had several hundred men under me." Dr. Director sounded proud and had every right to.

"Would that more girls could be so lucky." Zita laughed, but withered under the woman's glare. She cleared her throat. "Right."

"I'll never forget one of my best agents. Will Du. No-nonsense, determined, intelligent…"

"What happened to him?"

"He's in the cornfield. Took it as a personal affront that he was no longer needed."

"Damn. And the Stoppables?"

"They were allowed to reside here, provided they never rebel about what their son has been doing."

"What? Don't they love him?"

"Of course they do. It's just that…a lot has happened in Ron's life. When this much takes place, wouldn't you think that his parents would be let in on it, sooner or later? It's said that the television is there to catch them up on their son's life, but it's mostly there to torture them. They are barely there to watch their son live his life and guide him away from the wrong paths: overspending, overreacting, overeating. They didn't want the Stoppables to have that responsibility; of keeping him safe."

"So, who keeps him safe?"

"Kimberly, but, of course, she can't do it by herself. They assume she can. After all, they gave her that slogan: 'She can do anything'. Something like that is an invitation to trouble…"

"Who is this '_they_' you keep mentioning?"

"The writers."

"The writers? You mean like for a TV show?"

Dr. Director nodded her head.

"Okay." Zita raised her fingers, providing air quotes, and a flippant tone. "If the _writers_ are working on a _TV show_, what's the show's name?"

"'Kim Possible'."

Zita's eyes widened. "So I was a character on a TV show?"

"I imagine that this is a little hard to accept, but you need to. As bad as this place may be, it beats the hell out of nothingness. Trust me."

The Latina took off running.

XxXxXxXxX

"Tara! Tara!" She called out as she sprinted around. "TARA!"

"What's wrong?" A much calmer voice came from the blonde girl.

"Tara. You knew about them, didn't you; the writers, and how they screwed you?"

"Yes. I thought it was just some online rumor. How wrong was I?" She let out a small laugh.

"So we're just characters on a TV show?"

"Weird, huh? You'd think there was more for us to do." The brunette was about to run off, when Tara grabbed her hand. "Sorry about earlier. I get kind of emotional sometimes."

"It's nothing. You seem like a decent person. I don't know why that wasn't taken advantage of."

"Thanks." Zita took off again.

XxXxXxXxX

Time (well, presuming that the concept of time could even still exist in a place like this) passed in the void, its characters doing what they could to exist. From time to time, Zita would watch along with the Stoppables…and express distaste at what transpired.

"Even the obnoxious brunette cheerleader with the bubble butt gets more screen time. How's that for justice?"

"_Zita!"_

The girl looked in the direction of the voice. It was Tara and walking alongside the blonde was a handsome young man with a warm smile and frosted hair.

"Hey, Tara. Who's this?"

"This is Josh. I was wandering around after we first met and I bumped into him…literally."

"Yeah. This place is so foggy."

"The two of us got to talking." Tara grabbed his arm and leaned on it. "He really cheered me up."

"So, are you two an item?"

Josh shrugged a bit. "I'd guess so."

"Sure, I miss Ron, but the chances are pretty good I'll never see him again. I think we're going to be okay."

"All right, then." Zita hugged the girl and walked off. After a few minutes, she passed the couch in front of the television. To her surprise, it was empty.

"Whoa. Doc!", she cried out. "Doc!" The woman came running.

"Betty."

"Do-- wait, who's Betty?"

"I am."

"Your name is Betty?"

"Yes. Now what is it?"

"The Stoppables. They're gone."

Dr. Director - Betty - glanced at the television. "Not quite. It looks like they're going to be on a new episode. I guess they were needed after all."

"Wait, I've just thought of something. Kim's relatives have been featured, right?"

"I would imagine so."

"Then why aren't any of them here?"

"If I could hazard a guess, it's that they share the name 'Possible'. Wouldn't you want your relatives around just in case?"

"Certainly. So, how about you, Betty?" Zita giggled a little at the name, earning a gaze from the woman. "Did you have any relatives featured?"

"Yes. My brother: Sheldon, or, as he is better known, Gemini. Like several villains, he sought to bring the world to its knees."

"So you stopped villains and he _was_ one? This is better than a comic book."

Dr. Director looked over at the television once again. She saw her brother charging toward Kim and her brothers. "Huh. Seems like he doesn't have any dialogue. I can just imagine him: 'How dare they not give me any lines!'. Yes, him not talking; greatest tragedy in the history of the world."

"I wonder if we'll ever be needed again."

"Probably. Probably not."

"Call me crazy, Betty, but I keep waiting for some authoritative, sonorous voice to provide some sense of closure in this unusual situation."

_The sense that one is no longer needed can be an emotionally debilitating one. Fortunately, this has not occurred to either Rosita Flores or Elizabeth Director. They will survive, safe in the knowledge that their unexpected friendship will keep them strong. Strong enough to weather the whims of overworked animators, deadline-strafed writers and romance-crazed viewers. Such a friendship could only be forged here…in the Empty Space._

Zita gave a two-fingered salute to no one in particular. "Yeah, that's the one. Thanks."

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A/N: There have been quite a few potentially interesting supporting characters on this show who've been tossed away like so many pizza crusts. This is my own theory about what may have become of them.

Thanks for reading and reviewing and have a nice day.


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